Full Moon
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: He had already lost so much.


_**Written for the 'Dark Side Competition' by Empress Empoleon, under the category 'Death Eaters' (write at least 2000 words). This one was probably the hardest of all the categories simply because of the subject other than my fail fluff story from earlier. (Exhibit: Chapter 5 of We Are Stronger, otherwise known as Andromeda Tonks) Funny enough, not about Death Eaters. Huh. **_

_**Don't own, not mine, gonna go to sleep now. Really exhausted and emotionally drained. Some of this particular story was based off some stories by Avery-Lou, who is a really good author & I recommend her stuff. (P.S. I think this is over 2000 words.) **_

….

It was almost as if the world was, as a whole, mocking him. Slowly taking away the things he loved-the people he loved-until he was left alone, a withered shell of himself. One by one, the things that made him happy all faded away into memories, sometimes happy-often painful. Most people would have given up long ago, faced with even a _quarter _of the things he had to face, but Remus had never been allowed to give up. First his mum, and then Sirius and James and Peter, keeping him going. Day after day after every _damn _day.

Often, now, he felt that he could not _take it. _Waking up each morning without the option of talking to James or Sirius often made him feel so lonely, so desperate. There were days where he just wanted it all to end, for the pain and sadness to end. For the wave of depression that he struggled not to drown in-for it to just _go away. _

These were the times that he turned to Dora for comfort, for reassurance that there was _still _a reason to live. A reason to go on. Remus had found a love just in time, someone who would take care of him forever, because sometimes, he just needed a shoulder to cry on. A comforting voice to whisper to him that he _meant something. _Someone who would listen to him, no matter what.

It had first been his parents, and then his mates who ensured that he was safe, that he was sane. They kept him safe at all times, especially during the moon. But time-unfairly short, but time nonetheless-had taken first his parents and then his mates, one by one. He had lost his family, his brothers-but he still had Dora. At least he had Dora. But everything else, slipping away, slowly falling from his grasp. He worried that, one day, he would lose her, too. Dora...if he lost Dora along with everything else, Remus wasn't sure what he would do. How he would ever go on.

Because his family was fading away and all he wanted to do now was sleep. Sleep, eternal, under the star-lit sky. Under the fullness of the bright moon without the pain and fear that came with each rising of that cursed orb in the sky.

….

The first thing to go was the full moon. Most people wouldn't have considered this much of a loss, but then again, most people got to see the full moon for what it was meant to be: a thing of beauty. They got to enjoy it once a month, enjoy the brightness it brought to the dark night. But for Remus, the full moon has become something dark, something to fear. Since he was five years old, Remus John Lupin has hated the full moon with every fibre of his being. He hated it nearly as much as he hated Fenrir Greyback-possibly more, because Remus used to pity Greyback, and still does to this day, when he wakes up to reports of more death. He wondered what it was that could possibly make a man crave death in such a violent way? Was it truly just madness of the wolf...or something else entirely? Remus wasn't sure.

(He used to have the most interesting brown eyes. As a child, those two brown orbs would wander around his surroundings, taking in everything. Detailing information and facts. Even at a very young age, Remus was logical. He did not want anything to escape his notice, lest he forget it and all the magic with it. John Lupin-Remus' father-used to say that Remus' eyes were like the eyes of the trees; strong and determined, but containing old, old mysteries just waiting to be discovered.)

As a little boy, he was fascinated with the moon-_enraptured, _really. He would drag his parents outside every month and make them name all the constellations. They sat together on a picnic blanket and told stories under the bright full moon. His mum would tell him stories of the full moon being a friendly spirit who helped young boys sleep peacefully each night.

_He comes out every night to make sure that the children of the world sleep with good dreams and light hearts. The moon protects you over the night until the brightness of day arrives. Under the moon, you are as innocent as a child and as brave as an angel. He brings courage to those who need it and peace to those without. He loves every little child and has sworn to protect them from the creatures of the night. The moon is your best chance for protection, should you get caught at night. He will guide you back to Mummy and Daddy. _

_But never trust the dark moon, the new one that rises each month. He is a trickster-the enemy of the sweet, brightness of the full moon. The new moon wants only to make you lost and confused. His job is to make the shadows seem larger, the wind seem scarier. Should you fall prey to the dark new moon, he will never let you go. He will only leave you terrified and scared. _

It was a wonderful story to tell a young, five year old boy. A very good way to keep them asleep at night when the shadows danced and the wind howled, knowing that there were reasons for the noises. That the full moon protected him and the new moon was a Very Bad Thing. During the full moon, Remus could look out the window and see that large, bright disk and know that, somewhere, he was being watched and protected. Forever safe, even if his mother and father weren't there.

There was no one to protect him from the werewolf, though. Fenrir Greyback, who was known throughout Great Britain as an awful, _horrible _monster who would kill you viciously in human form. He liked to collect his debts and revenge in the form of family members, left dead and mutilated beyond recognition. And that was the lucky ones. The ones who got off easy through death. The unfortunate ones, the cursed ones, were those who survived. The ones who were forever cursed with the sort of thing most people wouldn't wish on their worst enemy. The birth of a new werewolf was painful enough for an adult-for a small child, it could be tortuously fatal.

John, who was Remus' father, had done something to offend Fenrir and his pack of werewolves that followed him around like disciples. It wasn't clear who had turned Fenrir, or even _when _he had changed. Some people fancied the idea that Fenrir had _always _been a werewolf-born that way naturally. Or, perhaps, he wasn't born at all. He just showed up one day, from the earth, craving the taste of human flesh.

John Lupin didn't believe in such foolish faery-tales, but he _did _know that testing Greyback was like testing fate. But, when faced with the matter of protecting children from the vicious monsters of the world, he would gladly poke a sleeping beast if it meant that there was a little less evil out in the world. No, John did not consider werewolves to be evil monsters, as much of the world did, but he knew that Fenrir was just something else. Something _undefinable_.

He wanted Greyback behind bars in Azkaban-him and his entire gang of children-killers. He didn't care if Greyback was a werewolf, a Muggle, or a trapeze artist. He was killing children, and that would _never _be okay with John Lupin, who had his own young son to take care of.

It was August when it happened, a very hot day that only dipped below twenty-six°C around seven that night. Remus, who was always very curious, even at five, had begged his parents to be allowed to go outside. There were no other children around for kilometres and he had finished all the books Mum picked up from the library. Twenty days left until the first day of school and he was _bored _beyond belief. And bored five year olds, logical thinkers or not, are going to go investigating. Then, they're going to get lost.

When Remus woke up three days later, it was to a world of pain and suffering, and no more peaceful full moons.

….

The next thing to go was his mum. She wasn't old-only forty-three. Far before her time, everyone said, _far _before her time. Food was brought (why did they always bring food) and people murmured condolences and apologies and told Remus to be a strong boy, a _brave _boy. Except his mother was dead. She was _dead_. The first person who had ever seen him, the first to hold him. _Mum _was the one who had refused to ever stop looking for cures for Remus. She had been the first reason that Remus never gave up, because Julia Lupin could lock away her own son once a month and cried about it like you would never understand.

Remus hadn't even been aware she was dying. He knew she had breast cancer, knew she was in and out of the hospital all the time, but no one had told him how close she was. How thin the line was separating Julia Lupin between life and death. He hadn't even been given a proper chance to say good-bye. Just a letter in the mail the next morning from his father.

_I did not want to distract you from your studies...wanted you to live normally...didn't need people gossiping...knew she had months...wasn't good...sorry you weren't here. _

He didn't even sign it with a _Love, Dad_. It was only signed with Dad's stamp, the one he had saved up for three months to buy, that read _John Hymen Lupin, Defense for Magical Creatures. _Like Remus was some damn _client _of his! Because, truth be told, John loved his only son. He loved him as much as any father ever could. He helped Remus with homework and advice about girls and was an encouraging figure when it came to Remus' 'furry little problem'. But his wife's illness had made him distant, made him tired. He was no longer himself, no longer there to be the kind of father that a grieving fifteen year old needed.

When Remus had gotten the letter, he had been very silent at first, trying to take in and process the words on the page. There was noise surrounding him on all sides, people yelling and laughing and talking. People who had not just been informed in a damn _letter _that their mother was dead. He could vaguely hear James asking him what was wrong, could feel Sirius' hand on his shoulder. But Remus could not make out faces or fully process his surroundings.

_Your mother died last night...your mother died last night...your mother died last night. _

"Moony, you okay?" James repeated for the third time. He had watched his mate go pale, biting his lip. (A sure sign that Remus was _not okay_, but James still wanted to make sure.) "What's the letter about, mate? From home, is it?"

"Yeah..." Remus said slowly, looking up at James, who was sitting across from him. He was moving slowly, _thinking _slowly. Nothing was reacting, no emotions kicking in properly. "Yeah...letter from home. From my dad..."

"What's it say, then, Remus? Everything's _fine_, right? Nothing wrong with your mum again, is there? Poor Mrs. Lupin." said Peter, remembering last summer, when Mrs. Lupin had spent all of break throwing up and pulling her fallen hair from her hairbrush. She had been so sick last summer, but she seemed to be getting healthier now. That's what Remus' letters had been saying since December, at least.

"She was fine during Christmas..." Remus mumbled, blinking slowly, and looked back down at the letter that he was clutching. James and Sirius exchanged scared and curious glances. Usually, Remus was not this slow. He didn't wander or search for words; Remus was direct and to the point. The sort of no-nonsense that Sirius teased him for, calling him 'Young Professor'. Remus looked back up, still in that dazed manner. "She was fine during Christmas...did I tell you that? She was perfectly fine. They told me she was healthy-that she was going to make it. Years, the doctors said. She had _years _ahead of her, not months. She was supposed to live another ten or fifteen years, Dad told me."  
"Remus, is your mum..." Peter trailed off, not wanting to believe it. Mrs. Lupin had been so nice, so sweet.

"Yeah," Remus said, as if his mouth was full of cotton. He swallowed thickly and shuddered. "Yeah...Mum's...Mum's _dead_. Last night, and I didn't even know 'bout it. Didn't get to say good-bye or anything. She just..._died_. In her sleep, all calm and peaceful." He turned to James, as if asking for answers that the bespectacled boy did not have. "She just died, and I didn't even know she was dying. I knew she was sick-we all knew she was sick, but...oh my god...my mum is..."

"Moony, are you gonna be okay?" Sirius asked, nudging the werewolf carefully. He knew kids who shattered, collapsed entirely when put under even _minor _stressful situations.

"No," Remus said quickly, looking like he was desperate for air, drowning in his own sadness, which was slowly creeping up on him. _Mum is dead_. "No, I don't think I'm fine. No."

….

The next thing to go was both Hogwarts and his father and each and every one of his friends. Eighteen years old, graduated, and he was officially on his own. No parents, a load of bills left over to pay for their house, and no hope of a future. Werewolves, if they were even lucky enough to get a job, often did not hold one for more than a few months. Stuck on his own, fresh out of school, and nowhere to go. Sort of.

Yes, James took him in and insisted on seeing about getting him a job. Trying to make Remus feel better about his condition, when all that happened was that he felt useless and pathetic.

He missed his father, honestly he did, but it was just so hard to feel sadness for a man who was so often gone, off talking to people who were 'up there' in the world, looking for a cure for Remus, or a cure for his own sadness. Hunting Greyback down all the time, swearing revenge.

Remus buried his father without shedding a single tear, and he would feel so very guilty about that for the rest of his life.

And then, just a few years later, he lost James, and Lily, and Sirius, and Peter-all at once. All within hours. James and Lily, dead. He felt unbelievable pain, unbearable sadness. For days, he just wandered throughout his old, childhood home, wondering what was happening. Where they had gone wrong. Why had they trusted Sirius, when they were living in a time when it wasn't safe, wasn't smart, to trust anyone.

James, dead. Lily, dead. Peter, dead. Sirius-might as well be dead, because he was a traitor, locked away in Azkaban, though that wasn't _nearly _enough for Remus. He wanted to be able to kill Sirius himself, instead of leaving it for the Dementors. Remus, wishing he could kill Sirius, make him feel the pain that Remus was feeling. That Harry must be feeling.

He cried, then. Just wept for days on end, wishing he could turn back time, that he could do something. He wanted to punch someone, wanted to see someone else suffer just as much as he was, though he knew that was cruel and unfair. When had he become so bitter and mean?  
When had they all grown up so much?

Losing Sirius twice, once mentally and once physically. It tore at him, tore at his heart. Realising that _Sirius _wasn't the bad guy, that Remus had been wrong all along, only to lose his last remaining friend. And he had to hold _Harry _back, convince Harry that it was the right thing, letting Sirius go, not running after him. Remus so badly wanted to run after him through the veil, screaming at him to stop being such an idiot. He was always an idiot, and now he was dead.

Remus, the only remaining _true _Marauder. Damn them all to hell.

….

Fourth to go were his students. Oh, he knew the rumours that were spread-that he loved his students in a way that a teacher oughtn't. That he invited young girls (sometimes, it was young men, or both) into his bed for a night, showed them what 'love' looked like. Remus didn't bother arguing against it-they would only push the rumours more, convince themselves that his denial was nothing more than a lie and a coping mechanism for his wild endeavors with the not-quite-legal Seventh Years. (Because, apparently, Remus _only _did those who were underage. Seventeen years old and older had no interest in him-_that _was why he had decided to become a teacher. _Of course_.)

Because he was attractive, or mysterious, or just single-the reason didn't matter. And, his quitting didn't help matters much. They whispered about Remus having been sacked because he was caught in bed with some Hufflepuff slag Fifth Year. (Said 'slag' did little to squash these rumours, sometimes _encouraging _the idea that she, indeed, have sex with the infamous Professor Lupin.)

Remus _hadn't _been caught in bed with any slaggy girls, but he was, probably permanently, done with his short-lived career as a teacher. This had been one of the better jobs Remus had held in the past fourteen years, but he had always known, in the back of his mind, that the news of him being a werwolf would eventually leak out. _Technically_, Severus hadn't said a word ("How noble of him," Remus had said sarcastically when Dumbledore told him.) and his secret was, more or less, safe. But, he had nearly killed three students during a full moon-that could _never _be allowed to happen again. He had been expecting this, to some extent, that he would one day have to once again leave the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School.

So, if he was so prepared for his eventual departure, why did it still hurt so much to say good-bye?

….

No. _No. _He had lost his mother, father, and his entire family. He had lost the moon, and a safe place in Hogwarts. He had lost his students, and possibly even Harry's faith in him. But not Dora. He wouldn't lose Dora. Not ever.

"_I'm sorry,_"

"_Dora, no! Leave! This isn't safe-Teddy!_"

"_Don't tell me what to do, Remus. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself._"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

No. No. No. No. No. No! _NO! _This wasn't fair-this wasn't _fair! _He wasn't supposed to...no...Teddy...Harry...movement all around him. Spells and screams, bodies falling to the floor and not getting back up. Dora, not moving. Bellatrix, leering at him, taunting.

"_Loving werwolves, see where that gets her? The daughter of a filthy, filthy Mudblood, see where that gets her? She's dead, Lupin. Your love isn't bringing her back. Dead, dead, dead. Why don't you join her?_"

Join her. Why shouldn't he? What else was there to live for?

_Teddy. _

He had his grandmother, he had Harry.

_Harry...I'm sorry James, Lily. I've failed you. I'm sorry. _

"Please!" he begged the man, not even seeing who it was. "Please, just kill me."

"Remus?" the person said, and two hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "Remus. What's wrong? What's wrong? Where's Dora?"

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Sleep, finally. Peace. An eternity with Dora and his family. A peaceful rest that would last forever. He smiled, dropping to the floor. Sleep.

_Dora, I'm coming._

….

_**I'm kind of in a crappy place right now. Sorry if this isn't up to my usual standard. (I feel like it isn't.) A lot of this story is based off how I, and others, reacted to the news of a girl's passing who had attended our school. **_


End file.
